"Get to work you lazy bitch - unless you want some of this on that goodly buxom rump!"

The black-bearded and foul smelling pirate raised his cutlass threateningly. Doris Maloney redoubled her efforts as she scrubbed away at the deck of the "Merry Maid" the inappositely named ship where she had been a slave and captive for nearly a year. She had no wish to feel the flat of that weapon descend forcefully once more over her shapely and exquisite posterior, appetisingly and invitingly raised as she worked away on her knees. That part of her had felt the cutlass's merciless sting too many times! She had no wish for more.

At least she was relatively free, unlike her fellow captive, Marcella, who was at this very moment tied naked to the bow exquisitely filling the role of figurehead. They had made Doris do her stint in this regard many times in the past, but Marcella's fuller and firmer bosom had, unfortunately for her, made her the pirates' favourite ever since she had joined Doris and her friend a few weeks ago. Doris had never liked being a figurehead. Whenever it negotiated a wave the front of the ship would dip, and the living figurehead would be drenched a thousand times a day. The salt would ruin her lovely golden hair. No - sexy, fun loving Marcella was welcome to it!

She wondered how Marlene was coping, shackled in irons, far below, in the dark and noisome bowels of the vessel. Marlene was a defiant girl who had still not knuckled under to these harsh and brutal buccaneers. No matter how many times she had been flogged, pegged out for hours in the sun or hung, spread-eagled in the rigging, she continually spat defiance at her captors. Funny, really, because Marlene had always been the quiet one before this Caribbean holiday had gone so disastrously wrong.

The cutlass came down hard on Doris's sweating backside, leaving a red mark to mar its glossy smoothness. She got on with her work. It was not yet nine in the morning and a long day lay ahead. Better concentrate on the job in hand and stop day dreaming, she thought. My poor old arse can only take so much of this in a single day!

Marcella, meanwhile, strained to ease her discomfort. She had been tied tightly to the prow of the ship, high up, but not high enough to avoid dipping frequently down into the briny water below. It was a choppy sea today and the up and down motion was doing her delicate stomach no good at all, a state of affairs to which her frequent vomiting gave eloquent testimony. "Not a pretty sight, really - a puking figurehead," she reflected, as she tried vainly to make light of her misery. "If only I'd gone to St. Tropez instead!"

Marlene, deep in the bowels of the ship, was almost ready to break at last. She had been whipped times without number, tied down on the deck and hung up to dry in the rigging, without ever kowtowing to the scum who had abducted them. But the darkness and the rustling sounds around her which she knew to be large black rats scurrying about the hold were doing what her previous sufferings had failed to do. She was many times on the verge of crying out for mercy and promising to be a good girl in future. Two things stopped her.

No one could hear her even if she did cry out for mercy and apart from her isolation, there was a hard residue of defiance which even this present horror would never overcome. She fought down her fear and her horror and forced herself to think of other things. Damn these bastards!

Meanwhile, up above, the sun was now high in the sky. Doris was still busily engaged in scrubbing the deck clean. This was no easy task, in view of the unhygienic, not to say downright revolting, personal habits of many of the crew. Doris, as a young student, for a dare, had tried chewing tobacco! The extremity of physical discomfort and humiliation to which she had been rapidly reduced after just one brief experiment had convinced her for all time that the wicked weed was not for her! And here she was, removing these loathsome brown stains from the deck of the Merry Maid, being cheerily and stingingly chastised if she failed to do her duty properly.

"I'll sue that travel agent, if I get the chance!" she thought, as she redoubled her efforts, having just received yet another painful salutation of cold steel to her suffering naked buttocks. The bearded ruffian disappeared as she was engaged in these thoughts, to be replaced by a colleague. This undersized and even more vermin ridden gentleman did not wield a cutlass. Instead he carried a length of knotted rope, which he swung from side to side as he strode up and down, keeping one corner of his eye fixed on the toiling girl.

Jem Cartwright, for such was this ill-favoured gentleman's name, lusted for Doris. As she worked steadily on, her ripe young breasts swinging to and fro as she scrubbed away, her golden hair for ever falling over her face, he again cursed a Fate that condemned him to never get to do more than look at this lovely and ever naked young woman. Captain Augustus Farr was the one who had the use of this particular gorgeous body as well as those of her two fellow slaves, and any attempt by the rest of the crew to have their lecherous way with them would be harshly punished.

Young Oliver Swain had once made a pass at Marlene, who had scratched his face angrily, leaving a mark he bore to this day. That was nothing compared to what the captain had caused to be done to him. First he had been savagely flogged and then keel-hauled. Since then he had been very careful to keep his hands to himself.

Finally, the sight of those sweet young buttocks became too much for Jem to bear any longer. Forbidden to lay his hands on these mellifluous hemispheres, he did the next best thing and "tickled" them with his rope's end, adding to the marks left by black beard's cutlass.

Doris worked on, knowing that any reaction to the blows would only encourage the ruffian to strike again. By this time she had cleaned more than half the deck and her first meal and refreshing drink of water was only an hour away. She tried to ignore her hunger, thirst and increasing weariness. These people showed no mercy to the girls when they perceived them to be slacking, and Doris still recalled with a shudder the three days she had spent stretched out on the deck, day and night with only one cup of water per day and nothing solid to eat whatever.

What had the brochure said? Oh, yes! The holiday of a lifetime! Very funny! She could have them under the Trade Descriptions Act, as well as for kidnapping and assault.

Down in the hold, Marlene heard footsteps approaching. Soon she saw a lantern coming through the darkness. The swarthy sailor placed a bowl of food and a cup of water next to her. This gentleman raised the lantern and inspected the chained prisoner. What he saw pleased him very much. Marlene was, in his humble opinion, easily the prettiest of the three girls. He had always liked redheaded women and this one had the most glorious hair he had ever seen. Even in this loathsome place and covered as she was with filth, she was a splendid sight, with her creamy skin, trim rounded feminine stomach and slender waist. The light of the lamp showed up the lustre of her red hair, especially that covering the lower abdomen! He got a glimpse of her generous vaginal lips, peeking through the shrubbery, and sighed. What a shame the crew were not permitted to handle the cargo! Not that some of them would wish to, even if they were allowed - bunch of fairies!

The lantern departed together with the sailor. Marlene ate the disgusting food and drank the tepid water. It might be the last nourishment for quite a while. She had lost count of time by now, but guessed she had been here for over a week. (It was actually twelve days). Left by herself in the darkness again she finished eating and drinking, closed her eyes and slept.

"How much longer are they going to keep poor Marlene down there?" Marcella asked Doris. It was evening now and both girls were locked in their tiny and overheated cabin. Marcella was rubbing her ankles and wrists, trying to get her circulation going after her day as a live and very beautiful figurehead. Tomorrow she would be back in her place providing adornment to the prow of the privateer. She hoped the sea would be calmer by then! Her stomach felt as if it would never be the same again and she must have swallowed half the ocean by the time she was finally released by a leering one-eyed mariner!

"I can't even begin to guess, Marcella" replied Doris. "Last time she was punished they kept her lashed to the rigging for five days. Whenever any of the crew were within earshot, she just kept on shouting abuse at them. That's why they put her in the hold. They can't hear her now she's down below. I sometimes wish I had her courage but I do think she will have to stop being so defiant. The treatment they give her will kill her before long, and she is my dearest friend!"

Marcella put her arm around the distressed Doris. She looked at the other girl's backside, still sore after a day being chastised, firstly by the flat of a cutlass, then by a tarred rope's end and finally by the captain's leather belt. The captain had been in a bad mood - again!

There was a loud knock on the door and immediately a villainous scar-faced pirate pushed his way unceremoniously inside. He grasped Marcella roughly by the arm.

"Captain wants you. Come along of me, wench!"

Poor Marcella, thought Doris. All day gazing out to sea and being periodically dunked and now an hour with that bloody pervert! Doris dreaded her sessions with the captain more than she dreaded the sting of a rope's end on her curvaceous bottom. "I wonder what nonsense he has in mind for tonight." Then her thoughts returned to the wretched Marlene still in her horrible captivity far below the water line, half immersed in the foul smelling bilge and her own bodily waste. She prayed for her to be freed soon and come to realise the futility of resistance. She also prayed for someone to come to their aid and free them all from these murderous thugs.

As Doris continued her prayers for deliverance, Marcella was being ushered into the Captain's well appointed and luxurious cabin.

"That will be all, Broken-Nose" he said to the glowering pirate, who left, not without a backward glance at Marcella and her breathtakingly lovely rear view.

"What an arse!" thought the lustful ruffian.

"What is it to be tonight, Captain!" asked Marcella after Captain Farr had secured the door to prevent his evening's pleasure being interrupted.

"I've been such a naughty boy today," sobbed the Captain. "Keeping nice Marcella tied up all day. Sob, sob!"

Marcella breathed a relieved sigh. This was something she could handle - got to be careful not to go too far, though. I certainly don't want to join Marlene lying in her own filth for God knows how long. She shuddered at the thought and had to fight down an urge to be sick once again.

Captain Farr pointed to the handsome oak cabinet opposite the fine mirror. Marcella went over to it and removed a long swishy cane. She turned to the Captain.

The captain did as she ordered and Marcella swished away at his buttocks for a while, trying to keep her eyes off him as far as possible. It was not a pretty sight! The Captain was well past his sell-by date as a dashing lover and more than a little over weight!

Once the chubby cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, she desisted.

"Let that be a lesson to you - wicked, naughty boy!"

The captain straightened up and pulled his pants and breeches back onto his ample posterior. He leered at his slave/mistress in as near a friendly way as this murderous and black-hearted scourge of the Seven Seas was capable.

"And now, my dear. I think I need to eat. Lie down on the table."

"Oh, Shit!" thought Marcella. "Not that again!"

The captain went over to the door, opened it and bellowed for the meal to be brought in. When the dishes had been placed on the table, the food was placed, course by course on Marcella's flat stomach. The captain sat, knife and fork in hand until the first course was ready to eat. Marcella knew that she must not sneeze or in any other way risk disturbing the meal. She prayed that the captain would be a little more careful with the knife and fork than on some previous occasions! It hurt when he accidentally dug them into her skin!

The worst part was between courses, when the disgusting Captain would bend over her and carefully lick off all traces of the previous course. Almost as bad was the sweet, especially if fresh cream was involved. That really turned her stomach!

"I don't suppose you got any leftovers!" asked Doris as Marcella was finally thrust roughly back into the cabin. He stomach was red and bleeding slightly from a few scratches. The drunken oaf of a captain had definitely not been careful with his eating irons!

"Fat chance of that, Doris. That greedy pig never leaves a scrap! I don't think I've met anyone so utterly gross in my life. And I moved once and a few peas fell off me. He looked very upset at that. I just hope he's forgotten about it in the morning! Oh - another thing. He has a guest to dinner tomorrow. I fear you will be having to join me! How I hate this life, Doris! During the day a figurehead and in the evening a bloody dinner plate! What a life!"

"At least we get to breathe fresh air and can see the light of day! And we get to use a toilet and wash ourselves once in a while. Just think of poor Marlene in that stinking hell down there and be grateful!"

Doris thought, even as she said this, that Marlene really had only herself to blame. Sooner or later her defiant friend would need to see that their only choice was to come to terms with their situation and try to make the best of it, whilst never losing sight of their ultimate hope of being free again one day.

She told Marcella to lie on the floor and knelt beside her, trying to treat the scratches on her stomach. It was treatment that Marcella liked! She closed her eyes and sighed happily as Doris's warm moist tongue licked away at the abrasions left by the disgusting Captain. Sometimes, she told herself, this ordeal was almost enjoyable!

...

Doris spat out another mouthful of sea water. She realised it was a great honour to be the ship's figurehead once again, but after a week of it she was wishing that the Captain would return the shapely and voluptuously bosomed Marcella to this role. But Marcella was being punished. The Captain had not been pleased that she had sneezed and caused some peas to roll off her stomach. When, the next day, she had similarly offended, his patience, ever a commodity in short supply, ran out.

He had decreed a week stretched out on deck to enjoy the sun, as he put it, to be followed by a further week tied to the rigging. He was a nasty bit of work in many ways, but had never been known to go back on his word, especially when it was a promise to do something unpleasant! So Marcella was not coming down for seven more days and that was that.

At least I get the cabin to myself at nights, she thought. Marcella was tied up day and night and there was no sign that the Captain was in any hurry to bring Marlene up from the Stygian foulness of the hold. He had still not forgiven that girl for her behaviour when on evening cabin duty. He liked to be beaten once in a while by a pretty girl, but not to the extent that Marlene had laid into him. His posterior still bore the marks! And as if that was not enough, she had carefully waited until the main course had been served onto her stomach - his favourite stomach of the three, so flat and broad! Then she had jerked in such a way as to leave much of the repast plastered over the Captain's face. Whenever he thought of this all the rage he had experienced at the time was revived and he cursed the defiant bitch anew.

Happily for Marlene, he still remembered the lovely concavity of that sweet belly and longed to feast off it again. In time his rage would subside and be overcome by his wish to eat off her once again. Until then she would have to stay where she was.

Doris needed every second's sleep she could steal. Not only was she doing duty as figurehead, but a couple of hours, cleaning the decks was added to the end of her day, and then there was still the Captain and his rich variety of weird desires to satisfy. The absence of two other girls with their snoring and chatter and general capacity to keep each other awake all night was a blessing, although she was distressed to think at what a high price this welcome solitude had been bought.

Marlene, meanwhile was wandering along a country lane in her native Yorkshire Dales. She was on her way home from school and had picked a posy of flowers to give to her darling Mummy, who, next to her father was the most precious person in her life. She loved school. But she loved her happy home in a delightful little village even more. And when she got home, Spot would be waiting for her, anxious to lick her face and be taken for his evening walk, chasing rabbits across the fields. She wondered what Mummy would have prepared for Tea. Something lovely. She knew that. Mummy was such a wonderful cook and always knew what her pretty daughter wanted, even before Marlene knew herself! She was such a happy and lucky little girl!

And then she came out of her daydream and sobbed bitterly at the memory of her lost life in England and her present misery. Still - she knew her father would have applauded her defiance, that hero who had won medal after medal serving Queen and Country. Yes! He would never have caved in to these bastards and neither would she. She saw his face in her mind's eye, smiling at her and heard his voice telling her he was proud of her. Her tears dried up and she tried to sleep. How much longer? She asked.

Marcella had just decided, after two days stretched on the rigging, that she would sooner be a figurehead - at least she got the evening s off! She would never sneeze again as long as she lived! Like Doris, she accepted the futility of resistance and saw that there were things to be grateful for in their predicament. One was that at least they were not being raped day after day by these horrible pirates. The Captain was very determined that his three toys be not soiled by contact with the ruffian, evil smelling and unkempt crew. His desires might be bizarre in the extreme, but penetration was not one of them, thank Heaven! Even so, some of the things he wanted them to do were definitely not at all nice! No matter how dishy any of her future boyfriends might be, she would never find fellatio enjoyable again!

She wriggled in a vain attempt to ease her discomfort and settled down to another night swaying in accord with she ship's motion. She hoped the ropes binding her did not break. It was a long way to fall!

Doris fell asleep in her cabin.

Marlene lay awake in the hold and prayed for death. She would never yield to these people and saw no chance of rescue.